


Rough Around the Edges

by Steadfxst



Series: Banging the Bartender [1]
Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Missing Scene, Suggestive Themes, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13556232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steadfxst/pseuds/Steadfxst
Summary: There's a time jump in the bar scene in 2x13 that was begging to be filled.





	Rough Around the Edges

**Author's Note:**

> For reference: http://good-janet.tumblr.com/post/172643152383/the-good-place-1x02-flying-the-good-place

“You know,” Michael says. “I had a friend who said whenever she was doing something bad, she’d hear this little voice in her head, a distant little voice saying, ‘Oh come on now, you know this is wrong.’ And then when she started doing good things, that voice went away. It was a relief.” 

“Your friend sounds like she’s one pickle short of a pickle party.” 

Eleanor snorts at her own joke. Michael continues:

“She was a little rough around the edges, but she was also a really good person. When she tried. See, I think that little voice was her conscience trying to guide her in the right direction.”

Eleanor’s eyebrow quirks, and she leans forward on the bar over her elbows, giving him an eyeful. He spares a glance before resuming eye contact.

“Are you hitting on me?” she asks.

Michael laughs. He takes away her half-finished glass and hands her a glass of water.

“You’re drunk,” Michael says.

“I can totally tell when a guy is hitting on me, you know.” She openly eyes him up and down. “I’m not opposed to the idea.”

Only she slurs on the word “opposed,” and it comes out with several excessive s’s.

“You should go home,” he says.

Her eyes widen briefly in interest.

“Yeah? Why don’t we go back to _your_ place.”

 _If only we **could** go back_ , he doesn’t say. Michael sighs.

“Eleanor, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

 “It’s my birthday,” she pouts. “And I’ve been a good girl.”

 She picks up the glass of water and sucks suggestively on the straw.

 “This isn’t helping your case, just so you know.”

Eleanor puts her glass back down in defeat.

“Wait a second. God, I’m so stupid.” Eleanor laughs. “That woman you were describing. Duh. You’re married, aren’t you? That’s why you’re being so weird!”

He gives a sad smile that Eleanor probably doesn’t even notice.

“You got me.”

Eleanor snorts again.

“You must think I’m crazy. She’s a lucky lady, I bet. Being with you for the rest of forever. I’ll bet you’re soulmates and all that mumbo jumbo.”

“Something like that. I—I actually haven’t seen her in quite a while.”

“You guys had a fight, huh? Dude, just apologize and tell her you love her! You can’t pass up an opportunity to tell someone how you feel!”

Michael feels a pang in his chest. This was getting dicey. He should stop talking.

“You should go home,” he repeats.

“You’re right. I should get out of here before I go home with the first loser who smiles at me.”

“Oh, Eleanor. You’re worth so much more than that.”

She licks her lips, and Michael’s mouth goes dry. For a moment, he thinks she’s going to ask him something, but instead she says:

“So how much do I owe you?”

Michael blinks. The moment passes.

“Drinks are on me. Good luck.”


End file.
